


finishing touches

by NotPersephone



Series: Count and Countess Lecter [41]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, F/M, Short & Sweet, happy marrieds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: Just another peaceful morning at Lecter Castle.
Relationships: Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Count and Countess Lecter [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/884424
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24





	finishing touches

The freshly pressed shirt shines with spotless immaculateness, reflecting the first rays of the morning light slipping lazily through the tall window. Nimble fingers fasten each button with brisk precision making further inches of flesh disappear beneath the fabric.

Bedelia narrows her eyes in disapproval as enticing skin vanishes under the pristine white, but the corner of her mouth turns up almost simultaneously. She can still enjoy the way the precisely cut shirt frames Hannibal’s stature, after all.

It is unusual for him to get so fully dressed so swiftly in the morning, indicating an early meeting that requires his personal attention. His old habits of ensuring his suit was in place together with his person suit as often as possible have longed shifted in favour of enjoying the feel of Bedelia’s bare skin on his equally undressed body. They both long shed their disguises.

From the spot at her vanity, Bedelia observes Hannibal standing in front of the full-length mirror and adjusting his shirt. She is in no hurry herself, the robe tied loosely around her naked body, leisurely applying moisturiser to her face and enjoying the sight. She loves their morning rituals, as they both groom themselves with care, but keep the other person in mind at all times. Hannibal’s gaze darts aside ever so often, and she knows he watches her as well, both mirrors purposely arranged to allow them to see each other from the opposite sides of the room. His eyes widen every time a glint of the rising sun tangles in the flowing strands of her hair.

Bedelia smiles as Hannibal, having finished buttoning up his shirt, turns to appraise the fit of his trousers, a needless task but a pleasurable view. She would be more than happy to assure him that they fit just right, but she is certain he can see that in her attentive stare.

Satisfied with the inspection, he reaches for the chair standing next to the mirror and a selection of three ties, all meticulous and ready to serve. The assortment is unnecessary but very much welcomed as part of their routine. He appears to be in deep consideration as to which pattern matches best with his shirt.

“The blue one,” she says at last, giving the approval she knows he is waiting for.

Hannibal beams and reaches for the middle tie. His hands turn the fabric around in between his fingers, purposely fumbling with its length as if suddenly having forgotten how to tie it.

A bright glimmer of amusement in her eyes, Bedelia abandons her seat and walks slowly to Hannibal’s spot. Her hand reaches for the tie and he surrenders it without a word, letting it slip though his grip. He stands obediently as she extends her hands and drapes the tie around his collar, then brings it around and loops the ends with practised ease, appearing more proficient at the task than Hannibal. They both smile as she continues to pass the knot, the correlation between her putting finishing touches on his outfit and her doing the same with his person suit for years has never been lost on them. Hannibal submits to her ministrations with an exuberant gleam in his eyes, as always delighted with her attention.

Now more focused, Bedelia brings the tip of the tie through the loop and snugs it down. Holding the fixed knot in one hand, her eyes rest on his, the flicker turning kittenish, as she pulls the end down decisively, making the tie fasten around his neck tightly, as if to remind him where he belongs. Hannibal lets a soft growl of approval, taking pleasure in her possessiveness and conceding to his belonging with delectation.

_He is hers._

Tilting her head in appreciation of his reaction, Bedelia loosens the tie and adjusts it to its optimal fit, hands sliding down to rest gently on his chest. With their routine coming to an end, Hannibal now frowns as if reconsidering his need to leave.

“I will be back shortly,” he says solemnly, covering her hands with his, not ready to let her go.

The promise is unnecessary but gratifying, settling in Bedelia’s heart with a profound warmth.

“I know,” she stands of her tippy toes and kisses him softly, “I will be here,” her mouth lingers close to his still.

Hannibal’s chest rises in equal elation, the hands pressing firmer against hers.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am working on a longer story but felt stuck and this was a lovely palette cleanser. Perhaps it is not much (and definitely self indulgent) yet it made me really happy. I hope it will brighten up someone else's day as well. Thank you for reading!
> 
> This short story is my 140th bedannibal fic on ao3. Wow, how did I get here? Thank you to those who still stick around with me! :)


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